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Once more there was great enthusiasm, and they all loudly applauded
Sina, not because her little poem was a good one, but because it was
expressive of their mood, and because they were all longing for love
and love's delicious sorrow.
"O Night, O Day! O lustrous eyes of Sina, I pray you tell me that it is
I, the happy man!" cried Ivanoff ecstatically in a deep bass voice
which startled them all.
"Well, I can assure you that it is not you," replied Semenoff.
"Ah! woe is me!" wailed Ivanoff; and everybody laughed.
"Are my verses bad?" Sina asked Yourii.
He did not think that they had much originality, for they reminded him
of hundreds of similar effusions. But Sina was so pretty and looked at
him with those dark eyes of hers in such a pleading way that he gravely
replied:
"I thought them quite charming and melodious."
Sina smiled, surprised that such praise could please her so much.
"Ah I you don't know my Sinotschka yet!" said Lialia, "she is all that
is beautiful and melodious."
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Ivanoff.
"Yes, indeed I do!" persisted Lialia.


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